


Without Him

by Julie290



Series: His Mother's Son [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Grief/Mourning, James Potter Dies, Lily Evans Potter Lives, Miscarriage, Slow Burn, Will add tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 13:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19792054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julie290/pseuds/Julie290
Summary: Lily Evans Potter doesn't die on Halloween night. It's James's sacrifice that saves Harry's life. Now Lily must learn to live without her husband, and to raise her son alone, in a society where everyone wants to meet him. And what happens when a few years later, she finds herself falling for one of James's best friends?





	Without Him

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I got this idea some time ago, while browsing AU fics. What if Lily lived and fell in love with Remus? Then the idea expanded to turn into a monster, to the point where it wouldn't be enough to write one story but needed a series.  
> Remus/Lily won't happen before some time, and it won't be the only story arc in this.  
> Huge thanks to everyone in the discord of RiddellLee, who helps me brainstorm in English and where I found my English beta, Random.

Chapter 1

  
  


_ October 31 _ _ st _ _ , 1981 _

  
  


Everything was quiet in Godric’s Hollow that night. Sitting in her rocking chair, Lily Potter was staring off absently into the distance, her wand in her right hand. She always had her wand with her these days, and so did James. In theory, they were safe. No one knew where they were, except for Peter. That was the whole point of the Fidelius charm. But Peter could get captured, or Imperiused, and give their location away to Voldemort and his Death Eaters. And Peter was hardly the most talented wizard out there. Oh, his heart was in the right place, there was no doubt about it – but that didn’t exactly matter when you had to fight against Death Eaters, or worse, Voldemort himself.

Then again, that was the whole point, wasn’t it? No one in their right mind would expect someone like Peter to be picked as a Secret Keeper. That was the core of the argument Sirius had given to Dumbledore, James and her: everyone knew James and Sirius were as good as brothers. Next closest to James was Remus – or at least, that was the case once. Before Sirius and James got their ridiculous suspicions about Remus being a spy for Voldemort. Both men would get offended if she told them that, but this was a case where their pureblood upbringing caused some bias. Subsconsciously, ithey thought that the promises of the Dark Lord were too alluring to Dark Creatures, to trust that a werewolf would not join their ranks.. Never mind that Remus was nothing like Greyback. Never mind that he was one of the most loyal men she had ever met, or that James, Sirius and Peter had been his first friends.

Speaking of friends… Lily turned her head to look at her husband. He was petting Chaplin, while the cat enjoyed some time free from Harry’s enthusiastic harassment. She’d been the one to suggest the name; when she was younger, she’d always enjoyed the movies of this Muggle actor. And Chaplin sounded much more original than a name like Fluffy, or Mr Paws. This was probably the cat’s idea of a perfect moment, the auburn witch mused. Curled up peacefully on his owner’s lap, getting petted while enjoying the warmth of the fireplace. Lily followed her husband’s gaze to the mantle of the fireplace, where Muggle pictures of herself, her parents and her sister at various ages sat alongside animated ones of James with his group of friends throughout their Hogwarts years. In the centre hung a large portrait was a picture of them both, taken in a square right after James’s proposal.

Lily knew that James missed his friends. They both wrote to them often, but the house being under Fidelius meant Sirius and Remus couldn’t write back. The Potters had no way of knowing if their friends were safe, what they were doing, or even where they were. Sirius, the last time they’d seen him, had said he planned to always be on the move; that would help sell the idea that he was the Secret Keeper, as well as keep him safe. Remus was supposed to go on a mission for the Order at the time, that was all they knew. And Peter was actually hiding, of course; he wasn’t any use as a Secret Keeper if he put himself in danger by going on missions. They weren’t completely isolated, of course. There was the old woman next door, Mrs Bagshot; she didn’t know their true names (they couldn’t take the risk) but thought they were a sweet little family. And she doted on Harry as though he was her grandson. Lily hadn’t told her yet – she hadn’t even told James, and he should be the first to know – but in six or seven months, there would be another baby to spoil rotten in the household.

She looked down at the one currently sucking on her breast. What kind of a big brother would Harry be, she wondered? Would he collaborate with his sibling to cause mischief, or would they struggle to get along? And what would James say when she told him that she was pregnant? They’d always said they wanted a big family; but that was before they got involved in the fight against Voldemort, and most importantly, before the prophecy. This baby hadn’t been planned, unlike Harry; maybe James would think it was too dangerous to have another child in these circumstances. And then there was the matter of her choice of godfather.

How many times, since they’d gone into hiding, had she started a letter for Severus, only to throw it in the fire without sending it? She realised, now, part of the reason he’d hated James so much was jealousy. Of course James and his friends had been jerks towards him during most of their school years; but she liked to think she’d played a part in making them more mature. Well, her, and the extremely distasteful prank Sirius had tried to play on Severus in their sixth year. She remembered the row this had caused between him and James, although at the time she hadn’t known what they were fighting about. It was the first time she saw the Marauders fight for real. And oh, she’d had her own choice words for Padfoot when, two years later, James had told her everything about it. Not only Severus could have been bitten or killed, but Remus would have been in serious trouble with the Ministry and his guilt would have eaten him alive. While all that certainly played a part in how Severus felt towards them, especially since he’d always been convinced that James was in on the prank and had only had second thoughts or wanted to look like a hero, that wasn’t everything. Though she’d been unable to realise it at the time, Severus was in love with her back then. And he was so insecure that he’d been terrified both that she would mock him for being in love with her, and that she actually reciprocated James’s feelings all this time. It was one of her biggest regrets, not being able to see it back then. Maybe if she had, she could have let him down gently, reassured him that she would never make fun of him for how he felt, and they would still be friends. Maybe she could even have reconciled him with the Marauders instead of pushing him further towards his Death Eater friends.

James, she knew, still despised Severus but not for the same reasons as before. He was certain that his school enemy had joined the ranks of Voldemort, and bought into his whole purity of blood nonsense. He hadn’t tried to forbid her from writing to him – not that she would have  _ let  _ him forbid her anything, thank you very much – but the way he pursed his lips whenever she mentioned her former friend made it clear what he thought of all that. There was no way he would take it well when she told him she wanted to make amends with Severus by making him godfather of the unborn baby. 

She opened her mouth to say something, only to get interrupted when Harry let go of her breast and yawned loudly. She laughed and checked the old clock in the opposite corner of the room: it was exactly 8 PM.

“Well, I guess it's time for you to go to sleep,” she told her son. “Will you say goodnight to Daddy first?”

“Actually,” James said, “I'd like to bring him to bed too. You do it every night; there's no reason for me to always stay downstairs, is there?”

Lily bit her lip; there was a reason, and they both knew it very well. It was safer if one of them kept watch in the living room, in case of an attack. But she understood James wanting to share this moment with them; they rarely took care of Harry together, usually one of them took care of the baby's needs while the other kept watch. They took turns, but she had to admit it would be nice for once to take Harry to bed together, as a family. Not to mention they should start making a habit of it; when the other baby was born, it would be pretty much impossible to do things the same way. They were bound to have to change one's nappies while the other was eating, or something like that. Actually, she should start weaning Harry as well. She didn't think she could breastfeed two babies at the same time, and she didn't want the change to be too abrupt for him. Realising James was still waiting for her answer, she smiled and nodded.

“Alright,” she agreed. “Let's do it together for once.”

Harry, supported by her arm, was already half-asleep and sucking on his thumb. Wishing she could hold her husband's hand, but not daring to put her wand away, Lily stood up and went towards the nursery, aware that James was only one or two steps behind her.

As soon as she pushed the door to her son's bedroom, a soft light filled the room and the crib mobile started to spin slowly. A look behind her shoulder told the young woman this was James's work, as he was still moving his wand.

“Show off,” she whispered, not wanting to wake the child.

Her only answer was an unapologetic grin, and she rolled her eyes in fond exasperation. Walking towards the crib in the middle of the room, she was forced for a second to put her wand away in order to lower the sleeping baby into it. She picked up the stuffed hippogriff Harry always slept with, and placed it next to him. James stepped behind her and circled her with his arms, his chin on her shoulder. They just stood there for a few seconds, watching their son sleep, and Lily decided this was it. This was the moment to tell him: now, standing over their baby's crib, his arms around her, their hands joined on her still flat belly.

“James...” she started, only to be interrupted by a loud bang.

They shared a panicked look, and before James could do anything to stop her, she steped out of his arms, whipped out her wand and ran towards the door. She knew who it was – they both knew who it was. It could only be one person, because Voldemort wouldn't send his underlings for them. He would come himself. Three times they'd defied him; his pride would require him to come himself. And he wouldn't leave the job of killing Harry to anyone else. She took a second to selfishly regret that Voldemort seemed to have picked them, and not the Longbottoms, though they also fit the criteria of the prophecy: a child born at the end of July, to parents who challenged him three times. Then a silhouette appeared in the doorway of the nursery, and she had no time to think anymore. Raising her wand, she started,  _ “Stupe...” _

But a red light came out of her opponent’s wand before she could complete her spell, knocking her backwards. Landing on her leg, Lily heard a sickening crunch and felt an excruciating pain, telling her it was broken. She tried to stand up nonetheless, but fell back down with a cry while Voldemort sneered.

“I’m not here for you, foolish girl.”

“Lily!” James called at the same time, worried.

“Stay where you are!” she said, gritting her teeth against the pain. “Don’t let him get to Harry!”

Her husband was standing between Voldemort and the crib, his wand at the ready. Lily looked around desperately, trying to find hers. She’d dropped it when the dark wizard’s spell had made her fall, something for which she cursed herself even though it was hardly her fault. She finally spotted it, just out of reach, while James cast _Protego_ after _Protego_ to deflect the dark wizard’s spell. She started crawling towards it, trying to not attract unwanted attention. In the back of her mind, she briefly wondered why Riddle didn’t just use the Killing Curse. Was he playing with his victims, giving them hope of defeating him before he murdered them?

“Stand aside, you idiot”, Voldemort said without stopping. “No one can stop the Dark Lord, not even you. Stand aside, and I might let your Mudblood pet live.”

“ Don’t call her that!” James raged. “ _ Expelliarmus _ !”

Voldemort deflected the spell with a wave of his hand and sneered. “Very well. You’ve made your choice…  _ Avada Kedavra _ !”

“NO!”

Just as Lily’s fingers closed around her wand, a green light hit James in the chest. Screaming in horror, she saw him slowly crumple to the ground, his empty eyes facing her. Her vision blurred by tears, she raised her wand to try to protect her son – but Voldemort was faster. Harry, sensing the tension around him, had woken up and was wailing in his crib. The wizard, his eyes fixed on the baby, brandished his own wand.

“ _ Avada Kedavra _ !”

“No!”

Once again, a green light erupted from Voldemort’s wand, but as Lily cried out in despair, the spell rebounded from Harry to hit its caster. There was an explosion of light, the house started to shake, and the last thing she saw before everything turned black was a piece of ceiling falling into her son’s crib.


End file.
